Things Unsaid
by bbgirl17555
Summary: This is a series of ficlets, of all the things that go unsaid between John and Natalie- because we all know a lot goes unsaid.
1. Part One: Unanswered Questions

This is a series of ficlets, of all the things that go unsaid between John and Natalie- because we all know a lot goes unsaid.

**Things Unsaid**

**Part One: Unanswered Questions**

Sometimes when the night became too dark, and the air too hot, she would find herself slipping out of Jared's embrace and making her way to the roof. Up there the air was cool and the lights of the sleeping city twinkled, up there she could let herself pretend. Once or twice he had been there, all six foot of him, a beer in his hand and somehow another waiting for her.

"Bad dream?" He asked, passing a bottle to her.

She took it, downing a nice cool sip before answering. "Couldn't sleep. I'm worried about Jess." She let her fingers graze the edge of the roof top, it was mostly true. She was worried about Jessica, and sleep did not come easy these nights, but that was only a part. She was afraid she had made a mistake, in one foul swoop she had lost everyone she cared about, everyone save one.

He took it in but didn't press. He was wrestling with his own demons these days, a girl back from the dead with no memory of him. John had cringed when he found out about Jared and Natalie moving in to the Angel Square Hotel. He had pictured a million awkward encounters that would burn and twist his gut, but somehow they had fallen into a rhythm all of their own. He would catch her as she came back from her morning jog and they would share a cup of coffee, or they would bump into each other getting the mail and she would smile, making his whole day brighter, or on a starless night they would share a beer. When Jared was around their eyes never met but those moments were a small penance for having her back in his life.

"So how goes the job hunt?" He asked, finding himself somehow sitting next to her, close, his leg brushing against hers.

She exhaled. "I've been meaning to talk to you about that…"

"Oh really?" John looked at her expectantly.

"Yeah, see I heard that the P.D. is looking for another secretary. Grimsely pretty much said the job was mine if I wanted it." She watched him carefully, the orange tinted lights casting shadows across his body.

John took a swig of beer. "He always did like your coffee."

"So?" She asked.

"So what?" John answered back.

Natalie smiled, despite her aggravation, it was just like him to side step the question. "So would it be okay?"

"Okay with who?" And catching her look, he smiled back. "Oh you mean with me?"

"Well I wouldn't want to impose." She drew out the last word, batting her eyelashes mischievously.

"Oh yeah because you never do that." John shook his head as Natalie whacked him playfully.

Crossing her arm, she tried to protest. "I am trying to get better about that!"

"I know you are." He tried to think, but the smell of her shampoo was distracting. He had forgotten how she always smelled like strawberries. He had forgotten how much he missed her. It had been easier when their paths never crossed to just blot her out, to fill his days with something, anything. Now that she was back in his orbit he remembered what it felt like to smile, to laugh, and to live.

But too close and he could fall again. And she was taken, she had chosen Jared over everyone, there was no chance to compete with that, at least that's what he told himself. "So?" She asked again, growing impatient.

John took another sip of beer. "I'm thinking." He replied with grin and Natalie sighed, he never had been that good at answers.


	2. Part Two: Making Plans

_A/N: Apparently my muse is on over drive. Another Small Ficlet- Jolie Style. A little sadish. Sorry about that. _

**Part Two: Making Plans**

Sometimes in the earliest morning hours she would find herself padding downstairs, putting on a pot of coffee hours before the lobby would see anyone but herself. The sweet aroma would help her wake up, help remove the dreams that lingered too long. The difference between dreams and nightmare she had learned was a thin and wavering line, the sweetest dreams often had her wake with the heaviest of hearts.

Sometimes she would do the books for Roxy, chewing on a pencil end as she added and re-added the long badly done columns of numbers, and sometimes she would straighten the papers that she knew John always left lying about the place, but more often than not she would find herself looking longingly at her day planner.

John had chuckled at her when he had seen it one morning, while Jared slept soundly upstairs. "Why is being organized funny?" Natalie had asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Nothing funny about being organized." John admitted, Natalie had been placated with his response. "But there is something funny about you being organized."

Natalie sent him a sharp look. "I don't see why."

John poured himself a cup of coffee, amazed to find it so stale, and registering that she must have brewed it hours ago. "I must be thinking of some other Natalie then, the one who left her wet towels all over the apartment."

"Funny." Natalie replied tartly but there was a wisp of a smile teasing the corners of her lips. And then he was gone, off to work, or to see Cole or Marty, or a multitude of other places she was no longer privy to.

It was always after he had left, that the quiet seemed so loud. The small lobby always seemed so much bigger, and she felt so much smaller. The tasks she had set in front of her always felt so hard and though she tried to concentrate, her eyes would wander every few minutes to a her blue day planner.

Sometimes on the mornings when the emptiness was too hard to swallow, she would find herself picking it up and heading to the small sofa. There she would cast a furtive glance up the stairs, looking guilty at something so innocent. Then she would flip back to December, looking at the appointments and wondering how something so unplanned had almost changed everything.

And then she would page through weeks, skipping entire months until she came at last to September 10th. Natalie would look at the date, a tiny circle around the number and nothing else noted on it. On most days there would a quiver in her chin and on rare occasions a tear or two, shed in silence. Sometimes she would wonder how you could miss something you never even had.

She had planned to tell him, she wasn't sure when, she had thought maybe she would stop by after the Go Red Ball with some burgers and fries. She would be dressed up and he would be casual, and they would match in their own imperfect way. But then there had been the craziness with Jess and Alison and then red spots. And then there was nothing to tell.

Now September 10th was just another day, another Wednesday, and that circle she had so eagerly done in bright red ink was nothing but a what-might-have-been. She had tired to cast those thoughts aside but her heart had a longer memory and in dreams moments that should have been would pop up unbidden and still asleep her hands would flutter down to a belly that was too flat and she would wake with heartsickness.

Once or twice she had almost told him, there was nothing to tell really, but she occasionally thought he should know. She would watch storm clouds send bolts of blue electricity into the hot summer night, and wonder what he would have said, or would still say. Maybe he would be relieved, a bullet dodged, or maybe he would feel the ache she did when she saw a stroller. Those nights she always went to bed vowing to tell him in the morning, but the harsh light of day was harder to face.

Natalie was tracing the date lightly with her fingers when John came suddenly bolting through the door, causing her to gasp and snap the book shut. John paused on his way up the stairs. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"You didn't." She shook her head a little too much for it to be true.

"I left my badge," He explained. "You sure you are okay?"

"I'm fine." The words were a half truth, concealing and comforting.

"Okay." He smiled and with a look at his day planner he nodded his head. "Well I'll let you get back to planning your future."

And her eyes followed him up the stairs. There wasn't a future to plan anymore, not that she intended to tell him that.


	3. Part Three: Unshared News

A/N: Thanks for all the feedback

_A/N: Thanks for all the feedback. It really helping these babies come along. I was originally planning to write stand alone ficlets but they have become a sort of mini story I was going to wait to post this until GaGirl made good on her one shot deal but I know she will come through and I am leaving for the beach today. Besides its better for you guys to hate me while I am gone so I can make it up to you later. Another bit of angst. I promise the next part won't be so heavy handed._

**Part Three: Unshared News**

Sometimes he would think about her. He would be working or walking and suddenly something would hit him, the smell of fries, a blue shirt, a song that they had never danced to but he had always intended to. He had plans that had never been formed into words, a future that he had carried in his mind and heart that had never been realized. And sometimes when he had blocked her out, locked his mind against her name or smiles she would just appear, and he would feel that familiar tug at his heart strings.

"Hey. Long time." He started, appraising her red dress with his eyes.

"No see." She finished with a smile and he noted how the blue sky matched her eyes. He had missed her, one day she was a part of his life again, moments woven in where they would talk and smile, small things that made him live again. And then she was gone, yanked away and his morning cup of coffee was no longer something to look forward to and the stars didn't seem so bright on the roof.

"So…" He looked at his feet before his eyes found hers. "You guys must have gotten a new place. I haven't seen you around lately." He tried to mask the hint of pain in his voice.

"Yeah." She forced a smile, and John thought she looked tired, dull, not the shining woman he loved. It worried him. "Jess invited us to move back into Llandfair."

Us. Us used to be him and her. John and Natalie, Natalie and John, they went together hand in hand. "So things are better then? With your sister?"

She nodded. "Yeah, its better." She wasn't sure if that was the truth or a lie. Jessica was so different now. Natalie reckoned that was her fault, Nash's death hung in her mind, a dark cloud, making her question everything.

"That's good. I'm glad." And he was. He wanted Natalie to be happy, if anyone deserved joy she did. "So I guess you decided against that job at the station?" He said it off handedly, hoping that it didn't betray him, or how every time someone walked into the station he would be up from his desk in suspense that it was her. It never was, but the hope lingered. He had forgotten how much it all hurt, not having her in his life. Now it was a fresh wound and no amount of Jack seemed to numb the pan.

Natalie watched him with wary eyes. He seemed upset, agitated about something, that he was trying to hide and she contributed it to work or Marty but never to herself. John didn't get worked up over her anymore. It was only her stomach that flipped when she saw him.

"I'm just staying home and taking care of Bree and Jess. She is having a hard time and I want to be there for her and the new baby." She didn't tell him how she sometimes felt so envious that she thought she would burst. Jessica had been the only who had known, she had taken Natalie to the doctors and then to the hospital, but now she was wrapped in her own life. Sometimes Natalie thought Jessica showed her an outfit or a toy with a little too much relish, but that thought dissolved quickly, Jess wasn't like that. It wasn't her fault that every tiny blanket made her long for a future that was gone.

"Besides, " She continued, turning her body slightly from John's probing gaze. "Jared really didn't want me working there again."

There it was. Him. And John found himself popping his knuckles without thinking. Jared, he was not good enough for Natalie. No one was, not even himself, thought John. His mind tangled around itself and he wondered why Natalie would be with that guy, why him. "John." She called his name and he was snapped back to the present.

"It's okay." He lied. He had too. And then he saw it, it caught he sunlight for a brief instant, rainbows reflected on the park sidewalk. His stomach churned, pain erupted behind his eyes and he found himself grabbing the back of a near by bench, something to hold on to in a world that was suddenly slippery beneath his fingers. It had almost been them, then he blinked and it was him and her.

"John." There was an edge of hysteria in her voice. "Are you okay?"

Spots green and black danced before his eyes. He couldn't. He didn't crumble at the sight of jewelry. He took bullets like a man, but that pain was nothing compared to losing her. Pulling himself up, he looked at her. "Sorry. It's this new no caffeine diet Michael talked me in to." A lie, needed, justified.

"You? No caffeine? Was Michael trying to get you to shoot him?" Her gaze was so stead for a moment John thought that she had to see, that she had to know. "John, you don't look so well. Maybe we should get you a cup of coffee."

"No." He shook his head. "I'm fine." He needed to get away, he was drowning in her, in memories and moments that never were but have should have been. Her red dress, her strawberry scent, her fiery mane, John was drowning in flames that licked his heart and seared his chest.

There was an insistence in his voice that made her pull back, a dark glance that broke her heart. "If you're sure?" She wouldn't push, not anymore, that's all she had ever done to him. All her pushing didn't change anything, in fact she was pretty sure it had ruined everything. So she stood, statue mute, trapped in by her own fear.

"Yeah." Forcing a smile, he left, his hands clenched at his sides as he walked determinedly away. There was nothing else to do. He wouldn't ask her, he didn't want to know. And he thought how sometimes enough whiskey would let his mind forget, and wondered how much it would take for his heart to.


	4. Part Four: Drink Me Silent

_A/N: I apologize for the delay. I honestly have not been feeling the OLTL love lately. Again I am a feedback whore, a total comment slut. So help keep me off the streets and tell me what you think- good or bad._

**Part Four: Drink Me Silent**

Sometimes, well more often than not if he was honest, he found himself going for a drink or two after work. A shot of something searing, something to burn her image away, and then a beer to nurse. There sitting on his stool he would people watch and wonder how they all seemed so blissful when all he wanted to do was scream out in agony. He had a few places he went, a one place he never did, memories were far too strong there. So he found himself pulling into Capricorn, a decent alterative, a place where he didn't see her everywhere he looked.

Tonight he needed a drink badly, three days ago a simple ring had blown his world apart, and now he was slowly destroying whatever was left standing. What was the point without her? As soon as he hit the doors, Cris was there, invading his space. "Jess sent you?" He looked John up and down with distrust evident on his face. "Ya know what, don't worry about it man. I will see if I can call Sarah and get her to cover for me while I take her home."

Her. John didn't need a name to understand who they were talking about. There was only one girl that was ever mentioned between them. His eyes quickly scanned the room. He found her easily, her bright blue halter top and tight dark jeans were meant to stand out. She was swaying against tall blonde on the dance floor, her feet wobbly beneath her.

"Damn." John wasn't sure if the word came from his throat or Christian's. Natalie sure knew how to self destruct, she didn't do it quietly like he did, sips drank in the shadows. No. She went out in a blaze of glory. Christian reached them before he did and though John couldn't hear the words yelled over the thundering of his own heart, he watched as the painter pulled her away, dragging her by her elbow on shuffling feet and gently pushed Natalie into a rounded booth. John's eyes raked over her slouching against the table in front of her, her one hand propping up her drooping head, the other arm sprawled ungainly across the polished wood. No glinting stones met his eyes, and somewhere amidst all the concern he felt a trickle of relief.

"How much did you serve her?" John asked as Natalie pouted, a wordless whine coming from her sweet red lips.

Cris raised his hands. "Hey, she was like this when my shift started. I called Jessica over an hour ago and she said she was on her way to pick her up. I don't know what is taking her so long. Jess is always so good about this sorta thing."

With that Natalie burst into a fit of giggles, uncontrollable laughter bubbling up at the irony of the situation. John watched her with anxiety, something was dangerously off here. "That's because Jessica is the Good sister." Her words slurred slightly as she tapped the table without any rhythm waiting for more sentences to form. "That why you liked Jess, right?" Her hair covered most of her face but her eyes still sent a pointed gaze at Cris. "She isn't the trailer trash Buchanan?"

Christian felt something long since buried hurt for her. He had known that angry girl who wanted to belong while screaming that she didn't care. Sometimes it was easy to forget that his Natalie and this Natalie were the same person, hard to imagine the girl that was the gem of her family could still feel that she was an outcast. "Natalie…"

But if Natalie registered the softness in his glowing brown eyes, it had no effect on her. She was burning too hot and any hand extend to her she would sear with white blistering truth. "And you do know there are other girls in the world besides Buchanan girls? Right? First Jess, and then me, and then Sarah. Who's next?"

"Okay." John could see this was all spiraling out of hand. Her frustration was falling all over, drops of rain that landed on who ever was the closest to her at the moment. "Natalie, you might want to be quiet before you say something you regret. Cris is just trying to help."

"I don't need help." She ungracefully pushed herself from her booth, momentarily tripping over her feet gangly before righting herself. "I need another drink."

"I already told you, "Cris nearly yelled at her, reigning in his frustration with a gossamer strand of restraint. "You have been cut off."

"Fine." Natalie huffed, pushing back a strand of hair from in front of her face. "Then I am going to dance, that is unless you want to cut off my feet too." She headed for the dance floor but the heel of her shoe caught in the hem of her dark jeans sending her crashing into John's arms.

"Whoa." John helped to right her, Natalie tipping in her dark heels.

Natalie giggled, intoxication blanketing everything in a hard humorous light, the tequila strong on her breath. "If you wanted a dance all you had to do was ask."

"I think you've done enough dancing for one evening." John replied as he fought not to notice how her body was smashed against his own, torsos touching, the soft jersey knit of her bright blue halter caressing the silk of his gray shirt.

Natalie pushed herself away from him, stumbling slightly as Christian placed a hand on her lower back steadying her. "Party pooper." She muttered. With a sigh, her mind hazy in a fog of lime and salted shots, she turned in Christian's arm, his hand sliding across the narrow of her side, resting on her taught stomach. "What do you say? Dance with me?" In the moment she does not appear to be a drunken fool, she oozed sexuality, a cat merely playing with its dinner.

Cris was not granted time to answer, John saw the split second hesitation and jumped in to the fray. "He can't Natalie. I am taking you home and putting you to bed."

"Putting me to bed, huh?" Natalie purrs. John didn't reply, his mouth had gone dry at her implication. Instead he started to guide her to the door. "Sorry." She called a little too loudly before once again tripping over her own feet.

John rubbed the back of his neck, muttering to himself darkly about her stupid shoes before sweeping her up in his arms, a fallen child too tired to walk. "I'll take care of her." He called out to Cris, a bite of protectiveness entering his voice. Cris said nothing, but he felt that John was in much more danger than Natalie, he knew first hand how hard Natalie's wrath could fall down.

It took ten minutes before John had Natalie situated in his silver sedan and another five driving down the dark streets, streetlights lighting her face before casting it back into shadows before he was able to speak. "You okay?" He asked, her eyes looking vacantly in front of her, as she slouched in her seat.

She didn't answer and for a moment John wondered if she had even heard him or if she was too out of it to even notice the question. Instead she turned her head and watched the street lights douse the world in and out of the inky black night. "You know better than to ask that." Her answer was much steadier than he had been expecting. And he did, he did know better than to ask her a simple question with an impossible answer.

Her exit was approaching and once against he found himself double checking to see that the ring was really gone, a piece of his stomach unclenching at the sight of her unadorned hand. He nodded to the green approaching exit sign. "Llandfair?" Natalie shook her head 'no' and John understood, sometimes the words were too painful to say. "Okay." He replied as he let the exit pass them by and together in silence they drove, one chance gone and another one up ahead.

TBC


	5. Part Five: Homecoming

_A/N:I have been away from OLTL for awhile now but the recent Jolie scenes really hit the muse starved spot. Oh and I have a major feedback addiction. Be an enabler! –Becca Girl-_

**Part Five: Home Coming**

Sometimes John would dream that Natalie would come back, that magically the past would be wiped clean and they would be them again, before _them_ fell apart. His mind never was able to construct a reason, it would just be, she would be with him; she would be _home. _But none of his dreams involved her shuffling along next to him and the strong smell of alcohol on her breath. He didn't know where exactly to go with her, but he wouldn't take her to Llandfair. He told himself it was because she didn't want to go but if he was honest it was because John wouldn't take her to _him_.

"Natalie." John warned, his voice trying to keep her aware. "I have to unlock the door. Just- just stand still, okay?"

Natalie exhaled loudly, feebly glaring at him as she leaned against the stained floral wallpaper that lined the hallway. Her mind was in a fuzzy rut, too drunk to think straight but too tired to fight all the painful truths that wormed their way into her head; and so her brain worked itself in circles, obstacle too big to ignore but no way overcome. She tried to think of something else, anything else but all the mistakes she had made.

John unlocked the door, his eyes constantly checking over his shoulder as if Natalie would just disappear, Alice down the rabbit hole. Pushing the door open he led her inside, latching the door behind her, locking the world out. He stood, at a loss for words as Natalie ran her hand over the back of his sofa. "Everything looks the same." She commented offhand.

John couldn't disagree more, it wasn't the same. Gone were the heels of hers he used to trip over, none of her books marred pages with folded down corners where she had marked passages that she would read over and over, there was a stain left from where her perfume bottle used to sit on his dresser but no earrings lay in meshed up pairs. There was no more orange juice in his fridge; he had long since stopped caring about staying healthy, no purple toothbrush in his bathroom, no more of _her_. "Not really." His voice was soft and he wasn't sure if she even heard him, or if he even wanted her to.

Natalie sighed, plopping down ungracefully on the couch, her mind running in weary circles and a sick feeling in her stomach. She was exhausted and yet there was something comforting about being back in a place she knew she shouldn't be. She liked the way it still smelled the same, it was an odd thing, but she didn't have the childhood memories of baking cookies or roasting turkeys to fall back on. The only time she could ever remember feeling safe was in that small apartment, in that small space with _him_.

"Hey," John broke the silence. "It's gonna be okay." If he was trying to convince him or her he didn't know.

"This is how it was supposed to be." How it was supposed to be she didn't even know, her and Jared, her and John; it was a muddled medley in her mind. "I was supposed to be happy. I was supposed to be enough."

John's heart hurt for her, for himself, for the way he hadn't been able to show her that she was more than enough, more than he deserved, much more than Jared had deserved. "Natalie…" Her name laced with all the words he could never speak, the feelings he had held in his heart and yet she never knew. They were always at the tip of his tongue, always so close and yet in the end it came back to nothing, her name and a look shared across the tiny space.

She met his gaze, simple pain painted on her features, as if she didn't know how to hide that much hurt. And then she dissolved into a rush of hot salty tears, her head buried into her knees, her heels pressing dimples into his sofa. He was at her side an instant; he never had known how to stop trying to save her. Save her from Haver, from Hayes, from Carlos, from himself- mostly from himself.

"I'm sorry. I'm just-" Anger, disappointed, crushed instead she rested her head on John's shoulder, her tears dampening his shirt. "I'm just so sorry. I just-" She stopped and started again, the truth made clear in the haze of pain and alcohol. "I wanted to love him. I wanted to be a good sister. Just once. I tried, I tried." It began to spill out, faster and faster. "And she is sitting there with all this baby stuff and it hurt, ya know?"

John didn't know. But he nodded. "Yeah."

"But I kept trying. But still I just kept thinking that it was supposed to be me, ya know? I was supposed to get to be a mom. And I just- I felt so angry inside but I was trying. I was." John attempted to follow her confession, pulling out vague details about Natalie wanting to be a mom; he tried not to think about _him_, Jared and her with a baby. It made his stomach churn, a sour taste in his mouth.

"I just- and then them, they were… And it's not fair! It's not fair. And she said- but it's not true. I wanted our baby. I know it was just one night, but I wanted… I wanted…" And then the sobs over took her, leaving her an incoherent mess that clung to John's shirt.

John looked down at her as she struggled with demons he couldn't see and there was a lump in his throat. He tried not to dwell on that word, the one that had stopped his heart in his chest when he heard it pass through her lips, _our_. She was drunk, and tired, and obviously hurting. "I know. I know. Shhhhh." He kissed the top of her head, pressing his lips against the silk sweet smelling locks of crimson hair. "It's okay. I've got you." And he sat holding her until her sobs became soft and her body sagged heavy against his, there were questions sharp in his mind but he swallowed them down. For a moment they could just be, for a moment the could just be _them_.

TBC


End file.
